Craig
by whocares10315
Summary: Nobody knows who the hell Craig Tucker really is. But Tweek Tweak is prepared to find out, at all costs…
1. Introduction

Title: Craig

Author: whocares10315

Pairing[s]: Craig/Tweek [possible others + other pairings mentioned]

Chapter: Introduction

**Rating: M to MA for strong language, sexual content and nuances**

Disclaimer: I do not own Matt and Trey's precious babies.

Author's Notes: I have a problem with run-on sentences. It's an incurable disease. I'm sorry.

Summary: Nobody knows who the hell Craig Tucker _really _is. But Tweek Tweak is prepared to find out, at all costs…

* * *

_Tweek sat on his bed, every bout of anxiety making him twitch and make a small, strained sound in the back of his throat. He reached for his mug of coffee, knocking back a good strong gulp, sighing slightly before picking up his pencil once again to try to at least get his math homework finished._

_But before he could even place the point down to paper, the sound of his bedroom door opening made him jolt with a frantic look._

_"Oh God!" Tweek exclaimed, before realizing who was at the door, blinking in disbelief. "Craig?"_

_Craig silently shut the door behind him, watching Tweek with an indiscernible look that made the blond swallow back another sound of terror._

_"W-what are you doing here?" Tweek heard himself ask, surprising himself at how controlled he managed to say it. In fact, his shivers and twitches seemed to dissolve away the closer Craig came to him, despite the increase of heart rate._

_"I wanted to see you," Craig said flatly as if should have been obvious. But Tweek didn't feel patronized._

_"Why?" Tweek asked in a faint whisper, unable to keep a surprised noise from coming up his throat when Craig slowly sat down close to him on the edge of his bed._

_"I can't stop thinking about you," Craig said with the same monotone. But Tweek could see the earnest glimmer in his dark, soulful eyes._

_Tweek's breath hitched as Craig moved Tweek's homework off the blond's lap and moved in closer. Tweek felt dizzy with heat when Craig calmly moved a wayward strand of blond from his face before cupping his chin, never tearing his indigo eyes away. The dark-haired male's long fingers held his chin so tenderly, yet their hold was firm and unwavering._

_"Craig, what-" Tweek started to ask his friend what he was doing, but with a swell of emotion, he knew._

_Craig closed the space between them, kissing Tweek and moving the tip of his tongue slowly around the edges of the blond's quivering, soft lips._

_Tweek whimpered, needy fingers finding purchase and tangling in the front of Craig's shirt, the warmth of his body under his fingertips. He didn't know what he was doing but somehow his lips moved fluidly against Craig's as his eyes slipped shut. He would shiver at every brush of their velvet tongues, making small mewls of approval at the brief and intimate contact. Somewhere in the back of his fogged mind, Tweek noted that Craig tasted like the coffee he loved so much: bitter, warm, and strong in an unforgiving kind of way._

_When Craig's teeth sank into Tweek's lower lip, instead of pulling away, Tweek pressed back, kisses growing feverish. Tweek felt Craig's hand moving up his inner thigh before cupping him through his pants as he moved in and kissed Tweek hungrily, forcefully, desperately._

_This exhibition of lack of control from the dark haired male—"emotion," even—made Tweek coax the other closer with short, breathless moans, answering his hunger by lying back against the bed, moving his hips shamelessly up into Craig's touch._

_Craig's lips never left Tweek's as he climbed over him, hastily tearing at Tweek's clothing as if they were offensive to him. He would stop briefly with one leg out of his own pants or with his shirt half off to bite at Tweek's chin and lap at his lips. The way Craig's moans rumbled low in his chest made Tweek squirm beneath the other, letting him aggressively undress him, finding solace in all of his heated kisses._

_Craig, naked and as beautiful as Tweek had imagined, sat back on his heels. His face was unusually flushed, dark hair falling over his eyes as he panted. Though Craig did not smile, there was a hint of amusement behind those dark, cold eyes._

_Tweek, sprawled out under Craig, light-headed with the promise of what was to come, stared back up at Craig, smiling weakly with a hint of confidence. His eyes trailed down Craig's perfect marble figure before pausing at his lower abdomen, his temperature skyrocketing and his moss-green eyes widening._

_The frail blond was surprised, even impressed with himself, for not turning into a twitching mess right then or stop because of the oppressive pressure._

_"Oh God," he choked, looking back up at Craig who tilted his head at him, clearly loving the flush that rose to Tweek's face as the blond kept looking down, then back up, then back down again, as if in disbelief._

_"Craig, it won't-" Tweek shook his head, bunching the sheets in his fingers as he stared up at the other. "It won't fit. It's—_too big_."_

_"Don't worry, Tweek," Craig murmured, leaning down to kiss him once more, hands finding their comfort over Tweek's wrists. "I'll take care of you."_

_"_Nnh_," Tweek quivered under Craig, the combination of his words and the feel of something heavy and firm on his inner thigh being just too much for him to be able to form words._

_"I want to be your boyfriend, Tweek," Craig panted in Tweek's ear before preparing to enter the other. "I love you."_

_Tweek felt his breath grow shallow and as he felt Craig enter him, he cried out the dark-haired boy's name._

_"Tweek," Craig grunted in response as he thrust into the other. "Tweek!"_

"Tweek? Tweek!"

Tweek's eyes twitched, snorting slightly before jolting awake, a bit violently.

"…Nnh, gah!"

Tweek looked around with wide, bleary eyes, panting heavily as if he had been running. Everyone in the class was staring at him. His face burned red to the very roots of his peroxide blond hair.

"Are you with us?" the teacher asked, raising a clearly annoyed eyebrow. When all she received was a groggy, spluttered response from a highly embarrassed teenager, she rolled her eyes and turned her back to proceed teaching.

"Dude," Stan smiled with a strange contrasting innocence, looking back at Tweek from his seat. "You were _out_."

"And making some serious happy noises," Clyde snickered teasingly, grinning at Tweek's right side.

"_Nh!_ Really?" Tweek asked, struck by paranoia as he noticed the severe drool at the side of his lip and drenching his sleeve. Not to mention the not-so-little situation between his legs.

"Yeah, who were you dreaming about?" Kenny asked curiously from behind Tweek, blue eyes blazing with interest as Tweek hid his bright face, wiped at his mouth hastily, and crossed his legs.

"Sounded like you were fuckin' a fag to me," Cartman answered loudly without turning in his seat.

The teacher sighed tiredly before turning to face the class.

"Eric, you may be dismissed. I'm sure the principal is expecting you," she said coolly.

Cartman cursed loudly before getting up to leave. He complained all the way out the door about how he was always the one caught when everyone else was talking.

"If any of you want to join him," the teacher warned with a pointed look before turning to resume.

The rest of the class, including the girls, Kyle, and Token, glared back at Tweek, as if angry at him for giving the other restless boys something to talk about.

Tweek shrank back into his seat and resisted a whimper. Fantastic. Now he had friends he had to make up to. It was all too much pressure.

Speaking of, he took deep, even breaths to calm his arousal, trying not to let the public setting stress him out too much. As he did so, he slowly glanced to his left side; the side he found himself turning his head far too often.

Craig sat there. Strong chin held up by his palm on the desk. Long legs stretched out under the desk, crossed at the ankles. Upper torso curved and slouched, tiredly. Marble, unblemished skin, even and hard. His dark hair not short but not long. Average. And his eyes; they were a dull cerulean, easily mistaken for black. Bored. Cold. Empty. Unfeeling.

He looked like a statue. A work of art. At least in Tweek's eyes. And he seemed to be the only one that did not blame Tweek for sleeping in class, or even care, for that matter. In fact, judging by the lost look in his eye, he seemed completely consumed in himself. He had probably not noticed Tweek's mishap.

"Craig?"

Tweek had looked up at the teacher frantically, as if he had been caught staring and the teacher was now going to mock him for it. But as the rest of the students turned to face Craig, Tweek realized the teacher was just trying to get Craig's attention.

"Craig Tucker," the teacher practically snarled, her patience tried.

Craig didn't move to look. But he blinked up at the teacher, making her glare angrily.

"Do you know the answer or not?" the teacher seethed, clearly doing her best not to explode at the boy. Because the one thing the teacher couldn't stand about Craig was that he was so iunresponsive/i. It wasn't even so much that Craig was a negative influence to the class, unless the mood hit him to flip the teacher off. He never seemed upset or angry when he was sent to the principal's office, which was a normal occurrence. He never seemed pleased or proud if he got a good grade on a test. He never even seemed amused or social when his, so-called, "rebellion," against the teacher made the rest of the class laugh. The teacher had tried to talk to his parents about his behavior, but the discussions never got very far.

"No," Craig replied flatly.

The teacher sighed tiredly, but she did not appear surprised. She called on Token who answered correctly and glanced over at his friend. But Craig was already gone somewhere. Tweek looked at the dark-haired male's profile, sighing gently to himself as he wondered where Craig's eyes were. Somewhere past the teacher, the walls of the school, the town, the state, the world…somewhere out there. Tweek wanted to be there with him. Be with that healthy yet narrowly built form, so firm. With those thin, unsmiling lips. With those hooded, dark eyes.

Tweek forced himself to stop, blinking a couple of times and shaking his head away from Craig. He could not stare at the other boy. At least, not for the rest of the class. That was exactly how he had first started day dreaming and then imagined a very vivid-well, just a very vivid dream. Tweek chanced one last glance in Craig's direction, imprinting that image into his mind before looking down at his twitching fingers on the desk's surface.

Yes. Just a dream.

* * *

~*Love, hate, undecided? Let me know! Thanks for reading.*~


	2. Chapter 1 His Name is Craig Tucker

**Title:** Craig  
**Author: whocares10315**  
**Pairing[s]** Craig/Tweek [possible others + other pairings mentioned]  
**Chapter:** 1/?  
**Rating:** M for strong language, sexual content and nuances  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Matt and Trey's precious babies.  
**Author's Notes:** I have a problem with run-on sentences. It's an incurable disease. I'm sorry.  
**Summary:** Nobody knows who the hell Craig Tucker _really_ is. But Tweek Tweak is prepared to find out, at all costs…

* * *

_Tweek forced himself to stop, blinking a couple of times and shaking his head away from Craig. He could not stare at the other boy. At least, not for the rest of the class. That was exactly how he had first started day dreaming and then imagined a very vivid-well, just a very vivid dream. Tweek chanced one last glance in Craig's direction, imprinting that image into his mind before looking down at his twitching fingers on the desk's surface._

_Yes. Just a dream._

* * *

**~ I ~**

"So, seriously, who were you dreaming about today in class?"

Tweek didn't seem to have a moment's rest before getting berated with questions when he sat down with his lunch.

"C'mon, dude. We all have them," Stan reinforced with Kenny, eyes dancing with amusement. "Nothing leaves this table."

"You guys are still talking about this?" Kyle asked with a sigh, taking his place beside Stan. "It's obvious that Tweek doesn't want to talk about it."

"Well, if he didn't want to talk about it, he would just say so," Stan replied flatly, always the voice of reason. Almost to a fault.

Tweek begged to differ on Stan's claim but remained silent as he picked at his food and stared up at his friends.

"Was it someone famous?" Token finally asked, looking a bit more intrigued.

"Or someone at this school?" Clyde suggested with a smirk when Tweek shook his head vigorously.

Although Tweek had been trying to simply look calm and let everyone know he wasn't going to tell them [because really, it was just too much pressure,] when his face darkened into a more vibrant red, the questions got more unbearable.

"Woah," Clyde snickered, shoving the blond slightly. "Was it someone in our class? Do we know her?"

"Was it someone you've been interested in for a while?" Kyle speculated, finally joining in. "Like, was this the first time you fantasized about her?"

"Or, 'him,'" Kenny threw in casually, receiving barbed glances from the rest of the table to which he simply shrugged carelessly.

Tweek held his hands in his laps, simply trying to keep himself from tensing up too much because that was why he twitched and shook. Sure, meds and experience had dealt with the condition and it was much better than it used to be when he was eight, but Tweek always had a limit. So when Kenny suggested that Tweek had been thinking about a boy, he found himself grinding his teeth and making a tiny grunt in response, eyeing the other blond.

"Dude, you totally just called Tweek a fag," Stan frowned at Kenny. "Look at him, he's so pissed at you."

"Christ, it's not a bad thing if he thought about another dude," Kenny insisted, sipping on some juice, the orange hoodie that had replaced his parka framing his almost angelic face. "Can any of the rest of you honestly say you haven't thought about fucking a dude or taking it up the ass? If you say 'no,' you're all lying assholes."

"Whatever, I think we can assume it's a girl," Token concluded, frowning at Kenny's distasteful word choices, looking almost like a teacher. It made the blond's tension all the worse. A lot of people were intimidated by Token's intelligence and maturity, let alone Tweek. For Tweek, it was almost as bad as talking to an adult.

"Was it Wendy?" Stan asked, finding himself asking simply because he felt like he needed to.

"No way," Kyle scoffed slightly, shaking his head with a knowing look as if he was proud of himself for figuring it out before finishing with, "It was probably Bebe, right?"

"She has great tits," Clyde commented with a strange faraway look.

"Amen," Kenny added with a nod. "And an ass you can fit on a nickel."

"Wait, so who hasn't dreamt about Bebe?" Token joked, making the rest of the boys laugh, except Tweek.

Stan was the first to notice Tweek's unresponsiveness to the joke.

"So, it wasn't Bebe, huh?" Stan blinked, making Tweek avert his eyes and silently confirm it. Tweek almost wished Cartman was there. At least if Cartman was there, he would tease Tweek once and then get made fun of by the rest of the table in Tweek's defense. Because his friends were like that; tease and bother the one guy who had something worth teasing about until somebody else with material more tease-able came along.

"My head hurts, I give up," Clyde grumbled, pouting childishly as he stabbed at his food.

"It wasn't Bebe?" Kyle frowned, as if not believing his calculations were wrong.

"How about Red or Annie? They're pretty," Token mused, almost sounding like he was trying to help Tweek out.

"Dude, you can tell us," Kenny tried to reassure, hiding his all-too-amused smirk and tilting his head at the other. "Who would _we_ tell? We're all here."

"Cartman's not," Kyle pointed out, not sounding especially upset about it. In fact, he sounded a bit "relieved."

"Yeah, neither is Craig," Token noticed, frowning slightly. Tweek had noticed long before any one else had. But now that it had been brought to attention, Tweek couldn't help but wonder where the boy was. He hardly ever saw him during lunch anymore.

"I'unno, he's probably out smoking again or something," Clyde murmured vaguely.

"Aw, forget Craig," Stan scoffed with a slight roll of his eyes. Though his words were dismissive, he didn't look too enraged by the subject of Craig. Stan never looked too angry. But Tweek was still surprised how unfriendly Stan seemed toward him.

"Dude, he deserves to get in on this, too," Kenny said, looking equally surprised as Tweek felt. Some confirmations of assents sounded around the table.

"Craig's weird," Stan stated before clarifying with a shake of his head. "He's changed a lot."

"How?" Tweek found himself asking without thinking. Before he could regret asking, the rest of the group was nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, he does kind of act differently," Token said reluctantly. "But people change."

"Oh God, do you really think he's that different?" Tweek asked, his voice going up slightly at the end, as if the anxiety of realizing Craig's "big change" was just too much.

"I mean, sure," Kyle mused thoughtfully. "You can call it 'change' but he just—kinda pulled away from us and got really anti-social, y'know?"

"It's like he doesn't have friends," Clyde commented, absently staring off at what seemed suspiciously like the girls' table. Nobody bothered to mention that Clyde was probably one of Craig's "closer" friends because that was how Clyde was; a thoughtless, sensitive, sensationalist fool.

"Craig used to be the biggest dick and the biggest troublemaker in class," Stan started. "And now he's just—not anything. Has anyone really talked to him? Like a conversation that lasted for more than five fucking minutes?"

Tweek didn't know why it was so distressing to him that he couldn't recall when he and Craig had had a normal conversation last. He wasn't the only one but still, he felt like _he_ should have simply because many considered them best friends. Including Tweek. Tweek had forgotten at what point his devotion to Craig had changed from that for best friends to simply adoration.

"We talked about where to get the cheapest cigarettes a couple of days ago," Kenny offered with a shrug. "But other than that, nothing. Didn't even ask me what was up or anything. Or flip me off."

"See? It's like he doesn't care about anything," Stan noted. "At least when were in grade school he said shit."

"Craig had always been like a—what's it called," Clyde trailed off.

"A pragmatist?" Token finished, smiling some when Clyde nodded. "But so what? So he's down-to-earth. Better than being a bully like before."

"Man, he _was_ a little shit in freshman year," Kyle recalled. "I think he made just about every girl cry that year."

"And Butters," Kenny added.

Tweek nodded silently. He remembered that year. That was the year Craig had started smoking. He even got suspended for it. But he had been lucky with that, considering he had been lighting up during class.

"He was a jerk," Stan said honestly, biting into his sandwich. "But at least he was kinda cool when it came down to it."

"Craig's still cool," Tweek said with a slight frown, finding himself sounding defensive.

He only realized this when the others blinked in surprise at him.

"Tweek?" Kenny asked, tilting his head at his fellow blond. "Do you know something we don't?"

The others were now completely focused on him, curious for an explanation. Tweek wondered why he had spoken up in the first place.

"Tweek, seriously, Craig's not the same guy anymore," Stan finally said when he could tell Tweek wasn't going to speak. "That's just facts, dude. Sorry."

"It doesn't mean we're not his friends or anything," Token clarified, looking at Tweek to reassure him. "Don't think that we don't _like_ the kid. We're just rippin' on him."

"But don't tell Craig we're talking about him," Clyde requested, finally looking at Tweek.

Tweek didn't take this too close to heart because, first of all, Craig hardly talked to anyone anymore, and secondly, Clyde was always anxious about what other people thought of him, so he tried to keep himself on good terms with everyone.

"You sure _we're_ the girls," said an all-too familiar voice.

Wendy came up behind Stan and wrapped her arms around his neck, grinning at the others.

"We can always check," Kenny snickered up at her, making her grimace at him slightly. She was quickly pacified by Stan, who turned his head with a smile and kissed her chastely in greeting.

"What are you guys talking about?" said another voice, belonging to Bebe, sitting down beside Kyle and looking at the rest of the guys curiously.

"Sex," Clyde answered, almost as a default.

"Of course," Bebe rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her on the table, making Kenny and Clyde stare appreciatively.

"I actually heard something about Craig," Wendy mused, slipping into Stan's lap, facing the others.

"Oh my God, what's with that jerk?" Bebe scoffed, sitting up slightly when she felt the unwanted stares of the two boys opposite her. "He made Annie cry in freshman year when she didn't even do anything."

"We know," Kyle sighed, hating when someone was late on the uptake, even if it couldn't be helped.

"He didn't like Annie and he told her so," Tweek managed to say without a stutter, but he felt his eye twitch slightly when Bebe gave him a look, as if _he_ had made her cry.

"Annie got really hot over the summer," Clyde hummed offhandedly, playing with his food absently and still watching Bebe.

"Yeah, but he could have said it a little bit more nicely," Wendy huffed in response to Tweek, frowning. "That asshole has no manners."

"When did Craig ever have manners?" Token scoffed, shaking his head.

"Annie should have known better," Kyle added, sipping on his water. "Did she think Craig was going to give her special treatment?"

"She _liked_ him," Bebe said meaningfully, as if that changed everything. "And he knew it."

"What possessed her to like him anyway?" Wendy rolled her eyes, holding Stan closer as if to emphasize Craig was simply not her type.

"Some girls go for that kind of thing," Bebe shrugged. "You know the type."

"'Asshole' is a type?" Stan asked, puzzled.

"You don't know anything about Craig," Tweek murmured anxiously, making Bebe raise her eyebrow at him incredulously.

"Oh yeah? Why don't you enlighten us, Tweek," Bebe demanded, crossing her arms again.

"Bebe, your tits are phenomenal, can I touch 'em?" Kenny interrupted, blue eyes large and hungry.

Kenny had inadvertently saved Tweek. The subject had been altered to Bebe's breasts. Kenny licked his lips, moving to cop a feel as he reached over the table. Clyde joined him, reaching out his grabby fingers, wanting in on the action and riding on Kenny's coattails. Token was trying to restrain his friend, Clyde, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. Kyle couldn't help but laugh at the reaction the girl beside him was getting; he obviously did not partake in the grabbing but simply watched with amusement. Stan, with a laughing Wendy in tow, cursed loudly as Kenny and Clyde's jostling made some food fly. And of course, Bebe, leaned back, covering her precious breasts, yelling at the boys to, "stop being stupid," but laughing slightly all the same.

Tweek was filled with relief, watching the whole scene and smiling to himself. These were his friends. And he was glad he didn't have to answer them. Because his answer would have been reduced to simply:

_All I know, is that his name is Craig Tucker._

And Tweek knew, himself, that that wasn't enough.

* * *

~*Love? Hate? Undecided? Let me know. Thanks for reading!*~


	3. Chapter 2 Craig Tucker Has a Job

**Title:** Craig

**Author:** whocares10315

**Pairing[s]** Craig/Tweek [possible others + other pairings mentioned]

**Chapter:** 2/?

**Rating:**** M for strong language, sexual content and nuances**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Matt and Trey's precious babies.

**Author's Notes:** I have a problem with run-on sentences. It's an incurable disease. I'm sorry.

**Summary:** Nobody knows who the hell Craig Tucker _really_ is. But Tweek Tweak is prepared to find out, at all costs…

* * *

_Tweek was filled with relief, watching the whole scene and smiling to himself. These were his friends. And he was glad he didn't have to answer them. Because his answer would have been reduced to simply:_

All I know, is that his name is Craig Tucker.

_And Tweek knew, himself, that that wasn't enough.

* * *

_

**~ II ~**

Tweek walked down the sidewalk, looking down at his feet and fidgeting with one of the buttons of his shirt absently. Surprisingly, he wasn't tearing at it or buttoning his shirt up incorrectly anymore, but sometimes, when he was thinking, he would sometimes play with his shirt, eye threatening to twitch every now and again.

The blond watched his legs take him where he wanted to go, thoughtlessly. They were taking him to Craig's house, so used to the route after so many years. Once he turned to go up the driveway, he looked up at the familiar house, taking a breath and removing his fingers from his shirt. He managed to walk up to the front step without too much incident but he ended up tugging his hair nervously after knocking on the door. He jolted slightly when Mrs. Tucker answered the door and suppressed a small cry.

"Tweek!" she greeted happily with her somewhat affectionate nasally tone, opening the door wider to get a look at the teen. "How are you? It's so good to see you!"

"Rrh! Hey, Mrs. Tucker," Tweek managed to say with minimal strain, even smiling slightly at the adult. "I'm doing fine. And you?"

"I'm doing just fine, Tweek, thank you," Mrs. Tucker answered, smiling at Tweek's manners. "You're looking for Craig, I'm sure."

"Yes, ma'am," Tweek nodded, looking up at the woman and chewing on his lower lip nervously. "I just need to-er-uhm!- just talk to him for a second."

Tweek had wanted to talk and hang out with Craig because he had realized that day in school that he almost knew nothing really about his best friend anymore. Sure, he knew a few things but a few things that everyone with eyes knew. It distressed him that he could lose touch with someone that mattered so much to him. He knew how he _felt_ about the other. But not nearly enough about him.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry, Tweek," Mrs. Tucker said, looking legitimately sorry. "Craig's not usually home after school on Fridays. He's out working all night. In fact, he sometimes doesn't come home for dinner."

"What?" Tweek exclaimed, sounding much more surprised and baffled than any normal person should have. He started to wonder when _this_ new development had come up. When he had stopped hanging out with his best friend on Friday nights to not realize that Craig was just not around.

"Yes, at least, I'm assuming he's working," Mrs. Tucker explained, looking a bit concerned for her son. "He just suddenly told me one day not to give him an allowance and then started coming home later and later."

"But where could he work?" Tweek asked, looking his own dose of confused and worried. "He doesn't even have a car!"

"Well, you know Craig," Mrs. Tucker sighed, shaking her head slightly. "I was hoping maybe _you_ could tell me where hew as going all the time. He doesn't tell me anything anymore. He only calls home to tell me if he's going to make it to dinner or not. Sometimes he calls to say he won't be home at all!"

Tweek watched Mrs. Tucker place her hand over her mouth, looking off with a thoughtful look, concern etched into her countenance with age. She looked like she was getting lost in thought, wondering where she had gone wrong with her son, and forgetting all about Tweek. Even Tweek could see that worry plagued Mrs. Tucker all the time. It seemed like _nobody_ knew Craig.

"Um!" Tweek cut in, looking apologetic as the mother shook out of her revelry. "Well, maybe I'll call him and see where he is. I'll let you know, Mrs. Tucker."

Tweek mentally slapped himself. Why did he promise such a thing? Now, what if he didn't find Craig? What would he tell Mrs. Tucker? The pressure was on.

"Oh, please do," Mrs. Tucker sighed, with apparent relief, making Tweek's chest compress with more pressure, fingers and eyes performing a variation of small twitches.

"Okay," Tweek said in his strained tone, stepping away. "Bye, Mrs. Tucker. Thank you!"

Tweek heard a return of thanks as he turned around hastily and ran off. Running helped a little. Especially when it was away from people and opportunity to speak to people. But now that he was alone again, walking down the street, his mind reeled.

Where was Craig? What did he do on Friday nights? If he was at a job, why didn't he tell anybody and where did he work? Was it something he was ashamed of? Embarrassed about? If it was an embarrassing job, would that explain why nobody has seen Craig working around South Park at all? Did that mean it was a job someplace else? South Park wasn't very large, so if he had a job, people would know. So then where…

The blond stretched his imagination, thinking of various jobs that _could_ be embarrassing to have. Embarrassing enough to move to the next town to do it. But he didn't really see Craig as getting easily embarrassed or flustered over anything. But then again, if it wasn't a job, what was it? What was Craig doing?

Tweek started to wonder frantically if he was the only one who didn't know. He realized he couldn't do this on his own. He was capable but he was about to blow a fuse over it. He was stressing and over thinking every possibility. If he had someone else to do it with, it wouldn't be so bad. It could just be someone to provide some moral support; he didn't need more thought.

He decided to call Clyde. Clyde was in Craig's last period class on Fridays and he knew Clyde wouldn't question him too deeply or think too much about what Craig was doing. That was what Tweek needed right then.

As the phone rang, he paced slightly on the sidewalk, tugging on his blond hair absently.

"Hey, s'going on?" Clyde answered.

"Clyde," Tweek started, realizing he was panting slightly with apprehension. "I need your help."

"Tweek?" Clyde asked, sounding a bit distracted. "Hey, what's up, man?"

"Clyde! Help!" Tweek shortened his request, realizing he was losing Clyde to whatever he might have been doing right then. He heard a girl giggling in the background. Tweek made a face at his phone. Of course.

"Clyde! Augh! You need to get over here and help me right now! It's about Craig!"

"Dude, I'm kinda bu-Nellie, just hold on, okay, babe?-Tweek, I'm kinda busy, can this wait 'till tomorrow?"

"Clyde!" Tweek found himself shouting, his frustration and anxiousness making his volume and pitch go up considerably. "You can have sex with some girl later! Craig is gonna die if you don't come out and see me right now and that's blood on your hands, Clyde! Aagh!"

Tweek heard Clyde sighing dramatically at the other end.

"Okay," he grumbled begrudgingly, as if Tweek was his mother and he had just been told off. "Where are you and what's wrong with Craig?"

"I'm near Craig's neighborhood," Tweek whispered, almost as if afraid someone was out to get him. His paranoia was getting better but occasionally, he would still get a bit nervous. "I'll explain it all when you get here!"

"Okay," Clyde repeated, hanging up.

All right, so Clyde was a little pissed at him. Tweek could deal with that for now, right? But even as he waited, he wondered what he was going to say to Clyde.

~*~

"So why's Craig going to die?" Clyde asked as Tweek got into his car. Clyde gave Tweek a meaningful side-glance, expecting a hell of an answer.

"Well-er-he's not going to, really, die…" Tweek trailed off anxiously, not meeting Clyde's eyes. "Today…"

"Then what's so goddamned important?" Clyde demanded, not really sounding angry just—frustrated.

"Do you know if Craig has a job?" Tweek asked, avoiding Clyde's question with his own.

"No, I didn't think he did," Clyde answered without hesitation, not questioning-or perhaps even noticing-Tweek's aversion of subject.

"Then, do you know where he goes on Friday nights?" Tweek continued, watching Clyde as the other drove.

"No," Clyde scoffed, looking at Tweek as if just realizing how strange the other was acting. "Why do you care?"

Tweek flushed slightly and looked down at his twitching fingers before answering.

"I-I'unno doesn't it bug you that you don't know Craig that well anymore?" Tweek asked, blinking widely up at Clyde. "Like, he doesn't tell us anything anymore. Isn't that kind of—I dunno, weird to you?"

"Not really," Clyde sniffled, shrugging carelessly. "He's always done his own thing. And people change, Tweek."

"But-but-" Tweek whimpered slightly, as if trying to figure his own thoughts out as he stared at the dashboard. "Don't you kind of wish—you-you could see him more? Like before?"

Tweek blushed and looked away, knowing how "cheesy" and "gay" he must have sounded. But he was glad that Clyde was the one he was telling this to. Token would come off slightly patronizing. Clyde wouldn't really judge him at all. Clyde didn't think much, really.

"Nah, I see him enough," Clyde commented without thought, driving almost happily. "See, he's right there."

Tweek sighed, figuring that he was the only one who kind of "missed" Craig when—wait, what? He looked out Clyde's window and true to his words—there was Craig.

"What the hell!" Tweek yelled, turning his head as they passed. Craig was just sitting at the bus stop, smoking a cigarette and waiting. "Where's he going?!"

"I dunno, he's always there on Fridays," Clyde shrugged carelessly, not even looking back.

"You said you didn't know where he went on Friday nights!" Tweek accused slightly, frantically looking from Clyde to behind him. He watched Craig get on the bus when it arrived.

"I dunno where the hell that bus goes," Clyde said, frowning at Tweek.

"We have to follow him," Tweek concluded, eyes wide.

"Why?" Clyde asked, his frown deepening.

"Just- we need to follow him!" Tweek said, looking at Clyde fiercely. The brunette did not argue and simply turned the car around, following after the bus.

"That bus," Tweek murmured to himself, looking at the station and the scrolling location label on the bus. "It's going to the next city over."

"What, the one with all the rapists, prostitutes, and drug addicts?" Clyde asked casually as he followed the bus.

"Oh God," Tweek said, looking fearful and wondering if this was such a good idea or not. If Clyde's statement had bee false, he could at least tell himself over and over that Clyde was overreacting to attempt to calm himself but because his parents had said something similar about the city, his heart rate went up. "What the hell is Craig doing _there_?!"

"Maybe he's selling drugs," Clyde offered. It was plausible. There were always a few odd kids out who picked up the "profession."

"No way, man!" Tweek squeaked, shaking his head and tugging his hair. "Craig wouldn't! Would he!?"

Clyde didn't answer but Tweek's mind was elsewhere. What if that was what Craig was? That would explain why he didn't tell anybody. That wasn't anything to be proud of. He imagined Craig, smoking a cigarette with his emotionless eyes, subtly exchanging little packets of snow white powder for dirty bills, shoving them in his pocket. No, no, no, no, no… Tweek shook the thought away, making small frustrated and tense noises that Clyde was all too familiar with to even mention. But as Clyde grew nearer to the city, Tweek's imagination continued to run rampant…He could just see it:

Craig, waiting in one of those sketchy alleys, looking fearless and otherwise apathetic to all the horrors taking place around him—when a dark limo looms forward in front of him. Craig, digging into his pocket for the promised drugs, walked to the tinted window, it rolling down to reveal a much older businessman. Craig would bring out the drugs, mumbling his price, only to have the businessman shake his head, asking for something else. Craig would raise his eyebrow, looking puzzled but desperate enough for the money. He'd slip into the car with the man, it driving away to somewhere secluded where Craig silently allowed the businessman's sweating hands to roam his body and hungrily place his whiskered lips on—

"Agh! No!" Tweek screeched, flailing slightly. "Don't be a prostitute! Grah!"

"Uh, Tweek?" Clyde asked, looking at the other strangely. "We're um—the bus stopped."

Tweek looked up and realized in what, to him, had seemed like a short period of time, he had arrived in the city. He watched Craig step off the bus, lighting up as soon as he did so. He walked down the street away from them before turning the corner.

"C'mon," Tweek murmured, getting out of the parked car and starting to follow after Craig. He could hear Clyde, sigh and get out after him, mumbling about being able to do "better things" than "stalking Craig."

Tweek wondered if that was what he was doing. Stalking? No, it was just—he was just concerned for his friend and he wanted to check on him to make sure he wasn't doing anything—illicit. That was fair, wasn't it?

"I'm hungry," Clyde complained, pouting slightly as he lagged behind. "Can we stop for some tacos?"

"No," Tweek was quick to respond a bit sharply as he nervously followed Craig, keeping an eye on that blue hat and his dark hair ahead of him in the crowd. Craig then looked back.

"Grah! Hide!" Tweek hissed, jumping into an alley and tugging Clyde next to him. He peeked around to see Craig crossing the street. He had just been looking up and down to check for cars. Tweek sighed a bit in relief but that didn't mean much for the blond—he was never really fully relieved or relaxed.

"Can we go home now?" Clyde grumbled, crossing his arms as he stepped back out, looking at Tweek. "He obviously doesn't sell drugs or anything weird like that. So can we just go?"

Tweek looked at Clyde confusedly before looking past him. Clyde was right. Craig was going into the auto body shop across the street, greeting a man who was working on what looked like an old, vintage car in the open garage. Tweek blinked in surprise when he saw Craig smile slightly when the grimy worker patted his shoulder heartily, clearly telling him to grab a wrench and join him. Tweek had never seen Craig look that—happy.

He recalled something Craig had once said to him, probably long ago.

"_I'm gonna get a kickass car and drive around in it like Red Racer!"_

Tweek blinked a couple of times more as he thought about that and watched Craig take off his hat and jacket, tossing them aside as he leaned over next to the man, looking into the workings of the car. He was watching the pursuit of a child's dream.

The blond almost smiled at the scene and nod in agreement to Clyde's suggestion when the man turned to Craig, jovially grabbing him and holding him close with a wide grin, making Craig smile back. Maybe not as enthusiastically as the older man but he did all the same. It was then Tweek noticed the other worker was definitely an older man—but not too much older.

Tweek's throat tightened when he saw the man touch Craig's face, dark hand cupping Craig's chin and smearing some dirt and oil on the pale surface in the process. Tweek found himself twitch, hands curling into fists at the sight. He didn't like that man dirtying Craig. Not one bit. He was shocked at his own actions. But the burning and acidic feeling in his stomach was hard to ignore.

Tweek burned with jealousy.

* * *

~*Love? Hate? Undecided? Let me know. Thanks for reading!*~


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